


240 days

by louwrites



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bisexual Calum, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Bottom Calum Hood, Canon Gay Relationship, F/M, Football | Soccer, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Michael, Gay Sex, M/M, Multi, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, POV Bisexual Character, Tags Are Hard, Top Michael Clifford, calum is very insecure, kinky buttsecks, michael and calum are football players ???, michael is flamboyant, they meet at football practice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 10:48:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9120325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louwrites/pseuds/louwrites
Summary: Why did it have to be two hundred and forty days?   It all happened with a stupid bet between my psychiatrist and I.   I don't know what sparked this idea, probably because I started doing it two hundred and forty days ago.   I have five tasks: improve my grades, get a job, make a friend, find happiness and stop self harming for two hundred and forty days.   But as I was seated in a steaming bath, I noticed how difficult it was to stay clean.Only two hundred and forty days to go.





	1. Bye Alexander

The gravel made crunching noises underneath my black shoes. The rain poured down like silver bullets, hitting me on my nose every now and then. Today was an average day, where I made my routine check in at my psychiatrist. Ms. Alexander was adamant, which persuaded me. Every time I go to visit, she'd give me hot chocolate with smarties. Today wasn't that kind of day.  
"Calum, I'm very concerned about you." she said.  
"Who isn't?" I scoffed.  
"Well for starters, we need to double that anti-depressants of yours, you need more sleeping pills, and your mum said you had a panic attack twice last week?" she asked, peering through her glasses.  
"Yeah...I guess" I said disinterested.  
"Have you relapsed again?" she asked apprehensively.  
"No" I denied. My monotone voice echoed through the silent room. She noticed that I was lying.  
"I'll be right back." she said. She probably went to talk with the other white coats, trying to figure out what the fuck was wrong with this eighteen year old boy.  
Alexander rushed back into the room, holding multiple manila files with the word 'classified' on it.  
"Calum, we might have to put you on heavier medication, and you understand what this means..." she said, peeking though her round glasses into my brown eyes.  
"Yes, and?" I sneered back at her.  
"Your mum is very afraid of what you are capable of..."  
"Why don't you tell me what I'm capable of." I said, emphasizing the mentioned person.  
"Calum, our session is over. Here's your prescription." she said intimidatingly.  
"Bye, Alexander." I said coldly while rushing out of the room, shutting the door harshly; therefore, causing a harsh echo through the hall.

-

I had only noticed how clenched my fists really were until I relaxed them. My nails had already left red, crescents on my palms. I retracted my jaw, massaging the bone along the jawline as it hurt from the added pressure of anger and frustration and defeat. I headed back home to be greeted by my mother, smiling ever so widely, with me showing my white teeth also ever so widely.  
"How was it?" she asked enthusiastically.  
"Um, pretty normal, I guess."  
"Any news?" she asked.  
"Yeah, this." I said as I slid the white paper, with almost unreadable words sprawled all over, towards her.  
"Oh." she said dismally.  
I noticed how her smile faltered and her shoulders started to slouch again. I made my mom upset, because i could not get better.  
"Oh well, better luck next time. Am I right?" she said, nudging her elbow into my left hand side.  
"Yeah..." I said, with a dry fake laugh, trying to sound willingly.  
I slowly strayed towards my bedroom door, quickly opening it and disappearing inside. My room was dark, my curtains were drawn and the bed wasn't made, messy clothes sprawled all over the floor like spots on a speckled egg. My computer screen was still lit and that's when I noticed I had a notification on Skype. I opened the application and was surprised to see my brother sending me a message.  
"What's up little bro, what ya say we Skype ;)"  
I read in his voice. I typed excitedly within seconds.  
"Sure big bro."  
My brother had moved back to New Zealand for university, and to rouse our heritage. Things were looking promising for him and his new girlfriend.  
"Her name is Belle." he said through the speaker.  
"Cute name, how'd you two meet? I asked, wriggling my eyebrows.  
"I volunteered at the local SPCA and, well, she also happened to be volunteering that day." he said smiling.  
My brother seemed ecsatic about Bella, I wish I could have sound so happy. "Super cute bro" I said focusing down on my freshly cut finger. I got it from the fence alongside the path home, when I lifted the wire to walk through.  
"What about you?" he asked.  
"What, me? No way." I said folding my arms and faking a laugh.  
"Why? Are you gay bro?" he asked.  
My palms started to sweat. "Jason, I swear to god." I rolled my eyes. "I am not gay!" I jokingly hollered.  
"Alright, alright. Who's the lucky woman?" he asked.  
He wriggled his left eyebrow. "No one." I said with a straight face.  
"Come on Cal, remember when you were in ninth grade, all the girls were swooning over you." he said laughing.  
"Well that was when I was cheerful and happy." I said softly.  
The air fell silent and a dense feeling filled the air, and even he, miles away, could feel it.  
"Get better bro, send love to the family. Talk soon." he said and smiled.  
I hit the end call button and turned off my computer. I flopped down onto my bed, not bothering to do my overdue homework. I soon dazed off into a deep slumber.

-


	2. The Boy With Dirty Blonde Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael tries to help a visibly upset Calum, ignorance ensues.

I woke up on the same position from where I went to sleep last night. My forehead was sweating and my eyes were tearing up.

This nightmare felt surreal.

I heard the tires screeching, screaming, a baby crying, children yelling, and the monotone voice depicting the time of death.

I sat up with a dazed look upon my face, regaining my consciousness. The time was past seven. I walked over to my bedroom closet, grabbing the closest clean shirt there was before picking up my lightweight school bag. I waltzed into the kitchen and got myself a bowl of cereal.

Today I wanted to go to school earlier because I didn't feel like listening to my mom 'babying' me. I loved my mom, but she can get a little too much at times.

"Bye, mom." I said softly, already walking out of the door.

"Wait, I bought your meds." she said.

She held her left hand out, and inside her palm was two pills I had to take daily. The one was white and the other a yellow round one.

She handed me a glass of water and I swallowed the pills all at once.

"If you feel anxious, just call me... or tell your friends." she said, rushing towards the kitchen sink to wash my bowl.

"If only I had friends." I muttered, and hushed a goodbye, walking out of the front door.

Ever since it was announced that I had a few mental illnesses, I was suddenly treated like royalty. Little stuff like that made my blood boil and I just wanted to get out of my house.

-

I relaxed as soon as I stepped foot inside my gloomy, old school.

School wasn't that bad, I actually preferred school over my home. At home I was treated like a baby, but at school I was treated like any other high school student.

Most people would turn up their noses if they heard the word school, but to me it meant freedom, freedom from my mothers care.

At school I was treated like a nothing.

I liked it. I didn't want to be popular and have a lot of attention on me. I used to be really popular in middle school, but people grow out of that stage.

My first class was English Literature, where we started reading Macbeth. How _tragic_.

I liked reading. I am intrigued at how a single book, with multiple story lines, can have multiple emotions and feelings expressed throughout. All depending on the reader.

English was over and I had maths; therefore, my mood dropped from slightly alright to bad. After sleeping in maths, I had Spanish. I sat in the front desk where the teacher could "keep her eyes on me".

Ms. Ryan had just finished reading our second semester assignment, and it was an oral.

The mention of the word 'oral' gave me shivers down my spine and made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. My hands were sweating and my leg started to move up and down.

I wanted to scream, cry, and punch something, all at once. I rest my head on my arms, closing my eyes and trying to push these awful feelings away.

"Mr hood, care to explain why you are so important to not pay attention in my class?" she said, her pointy nose made me want to punch it right in.

"I-I I'm sorry, I'm not feeling good." I said stuttering.

"Not feeling good won't bring you anywhere, young boy, this is high school!" she said in a high pitched voice. "Laying on your arms through classes makes you lazy, and lazy people won't get anywhere in life..."

My eyes started watering and I excused myself to the outside bathrooms. I trudged my way over to the empty toilet stall and locked the door.

My back hit the door, and my body slowly slid down until I was scrunched up holding my legs. I was rocking back and forth trying to calm myself.

"Are you okay?" I heard a faint, male voice.

I didn't answer instead I stopped crying and sniffed every ten or so seconds.

"It's okay if you're crying, it's alright to cry." he said calmly.

"I'm fine." I said groggily.

"Let me in, maybe I can help?" he said.

"Why? Why do you want to help me?" I asked.

"I just wanted to help-" he awkwardly chuckled.

"I don't need your help." I said while interrupting him. For a moment it was silent and I thought he had already left, and given up.

"I'm a very good listener..." he tries again.

"I said no thanks." I opened the stall door, rushing out of the bathroom. I shut the main bathroom door into the face of the boy with dirty blonde hair.

Today was too busy of a day and I decided to head home rather than finish the school day, leaving my homework for tomorrow, once again.


End file.
